Is it Wrong to Read in Between the Lines?
by Glue U
Summary: When a boy realizes the society he lives in, how long can he stay in the running? (OC not currently planned to be paired with any Toradora! characters, and ratings T or M are to be decided)
1. Exposition

_Hey guys, what's up. This project is mainly to vent out some of my frustration toward society, and then to create a world that I would find realistic and as ideal as possible. I do know that the main character is not properly introduced, and that is just part of my writing style. Don't worry, I'll add in a proper introduction later on in the story, so please bear with it. Also, there are no pairings between the main character with any character from **Toradora!** quite yet, and it's to be decided whether this story will be _**T** _or_ **M** _. Anyway, I hope you enjoy and CONSTRUCTIVE criticism is always welcome._

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In America, I found myself in a hierarchy. It was always like that, but it took a while for me to realize. In early grade school, it may have been alright to kick, scream, and shout how girls have cooties, but that's not how it goes in late grade school, middle school, and up. People learn how to act—to decide whether to harass the girl you sit next to as a joke, the choice of whether or not to shout at the top of your lungs for desperate attention. I came late into the game, and consequently suffered a popularity drop as people moved on to more "mature" activities. Guys talked about girls, girls talked about guys, and there was mutual liking between the two genders.

I later was astonished at how people developed so quickly. They developed some sort of skill to make people like them, to seem natural or fit the image in people's heads. I could not do that, no matter how hard I tried. It was hard fitting in the "cool" crowd, who wore their dark hoodies and khaki shorts. In the beginning of sixth grade, I realized the change everyone made. It was as if everything was a giant Broadway show. Everyone was acting subconsciously to gain the approval of others. There is nothing wrong with that, right? They just wanted to be liked, to feel as if they belonged. I wanted it too—cool friends, a girl that liked me, to be a popular monument in society. However it was only a short period of time before I realized the brutal truth of carrying a facade into the already competitive running.

People knew me as the annoying kid, as the obnoxious Chinese who wore sweatpants to school every day, and it was hard to build prestige on top of that. I did everything—restyle my hair, buy new clothing, acted mature around the ladies, and even if it was a little, I was happy to be recognized in society.

In my freshman year of high school, people knew me. In a hierarchy from lowest to highest there are peasants, merchants, knights, barons, counts, dukes, and finally the kings. In terms of hierarchy, I would be considered a knight, a rank I worked hard for. However, at that point, I should have realized that, also similar to a hierarchy, it was not possible to move up to a baron. I tried to create connections—joining student council, making good first impressions with people that I deemed worth knowing—and then I lost sight of things. My childhood friends, the ones that I like playing video games with, the ones that did not care what I wore on a school day, began to fade from my view. It was astonishing, really—how deep I pulled myself into the trenches of society.

I so desperately wanted attention, but when it hit me, I knew it was futile. Sure, the so-called popular boys would always acknowledge me and high-five me, but I recognized the act. In order to keep their prestige, they had to act nice to a knight like me. They never pulled me into their group, never asked me to hang out at a local restaurant, or to celebrate whatever-his-name-is's birthday. I was always surrounded by people, but always felt so alone. It was as if everyone was going to act until they graduated high school, throughout college, and into the real world. If that is how the choose to act, then they must have either decided their path to keep their facade, or some, previously like me, are still stuck in their little illusion of being a king or queen in society.

I coped with this knowledge and survived the pressure society handed to me. But I was tired, and very much so. I was not looking to move up in rank anymore, but just to maintain my current status. It was almost too much and I did not want it anymore—so the offer to study abroad was tempting.

~End Introduction


	2. The Moving

It was like any normal day: I wake up, go to school, get berated with peer pressure, come home, and begin homework. The beginning of a new school year was as stale as I had expected. Not through the perspective of my pessimistic mind, I suppose my life was not too bad. Sure, I am aware of the brutality of society, but I knew how to blend and work with others. People knew who I was and did not treat me like a nobody. I believe the ability to blend was an important skill to have, because if you cannot change the society, your only option is to coexist with it. Even with the insight of my high school society, I cannot be sure of the future. Will people continue acting, or will the facades be dropped after reaching adulthood. Life is too unpredictable and it is better to go forward fully prepared.

I prepared myself a nice, warm cup of water and began to work on an essay due next week. In school, I had exceptional grades, and even though I believed tiny letters littered across a piece of paper were useless, it was nice to have—like a trophy of some sort. The beginning of the essay was always the hardest—I had to bully my brain into the mood for writing, and then the first twenty or so ideas are always scrapped. I had to write an essay regarding past foreign relations between America and one other country in the world. The prompt was: _Does American interaction with this country apply a positive effect to the world as a whole?_ I considered choosing China as my country, considering my ethnicity is Chinese, however I did not know any major interactions between the United States and China. I remembered in history we were learning about World War II. Near the end of the war, America dropped two bombs in Japan in order to prevent more American casualties. It would make an interesting essay, and I knew plenty about Japan since my parents had lived there for eight years and taught me a lot about Japanese culture and history.

Two hours in, and I was nearly done with the essay. I finished the last few drops of water in my cup and thought long and hard about how I should conclude the essay. The doorbell rang, and without a second to waste, the door immediately opened. I sighed as I plugged in headphones to my computer, knowing that it would be noisy in a few seconds.

I heard the _klunks_ and _oomphs_ from my bedroom and awaited for her arrival. The door busted open and my sister walked in.

"Hey, Jeff," she said. "Guess what happened today? I talked to David again. It was super awesome, like, he is totally cute after all…"

I sighed again as my sister ranted about her love life. A junior in high school, a year older than me, Alexandria Faan was the queen of our society: top grades, captain of the track team, and beautiful on top of that. Personally, I liked to call her an exception to our society's rules. She did not have to act or create a persona for people to accept her—people fawn over her naturally. However, thanks to her, I was able to build my own reputation, even if it was as Alex's little brother, or the occasional remark of _Hey, aren't you related to Alex_? It was annoying and stupid, but I would smile and nod, and then pointlessly tell the asker my name, only knowing they will forget it later.

"Like, your advice totally worked. I didn't know David would be kind of a wuss. Like, I only ordered him around a bit and then he stopped being so sassy and was actually pretty cute for once…"

Of course, it was easy to tell. People like lacrosse captain David pretend to act hard to get so more girls would chase after him. After someone breaks through his act, he will probably do whatever you say.

"Mhm… glad to help," I replied.

"What are you working on? In exchange for your help I'll help you edit your paper—"

"No, it's okay, you can go back to your room now, Alex."

"Hey, don't be a David—here, let me read it—" I complied, deeming it too bothersome to argue.

"Hey it's pretty good, bro. You just have some grammar issues here and your quote here is cited wrong—"

"Gee, thanks. Now get out, I have to finish the conclusion."

"Whatever _David_ ," she said with the emphasis. "Get downstairs in half an hour, dinner will be ready then."

"Mhm," I replied as she left and shut the door.

I thought long and hard about the conclusion, but after thirty minutes of effort, nothing came into my head, so I saved the document and headed downstairs. My mom was talking to my dad in Chinese as usual, as Alex was setting up the plates for dinner. My mom finished steaming the fish, and brought it over the table as the family sat down to eat.

"Thanks for the meal," my mom said in Japanese.

"Mom, how many times did I tell you to stop with that," I said. "We're not in Japan and we're going to be anytime soon. Besides we're Chinese, shouldn't we burp or something?"

"Don't be like that Jeff. You know Japanese culture really was something for me," my mom replied in Chinese. "You know, we really should go to Japan every once in a while, I miss my third mother that lives there."

"Mom, you know full well, that she isn't your mother; she was just your host family for a while."

"Yes, but even so, she was really kind to us in Japan," my father intervened. "And she even helped me find my job when your mother and I lived there. I heard she was in poor health lately and I am planning to take an extended break to go visit her."

"Hey, make Jeff go, he can take care of her," Alex said. "Remember? There was like a 'study abroad' ad or something at our front door this morning. If I remember, it was to somewhere in Japan. All costs paid and everything!"

"Ha-ha, you should go for the experience, Jeff!" my mom added jokingly. "And on the way you can take care of my mother there!"

The three laughed at the prospect of shipping me off to Japan. But something nudged at me. What if I go to Japan? Will it be a fresh start? Maybe I can meet someone genuine? There's always a chance, right?

My dad looked at me as I had stopped eating and was just staring at my rice. "Jeff, don't tell me you actually wanted to go—"

"I want to go."

All three of them stared at me, astonished.


End file.
